The echo of two opposing cries rolled through the night—one born of survival, the other of vengeance.
In the heart of Longunard's mansion, tension weighed heavier than the silence itself.
Rika exhaled softly. "Phew… I'm glad she agreed. I honestly didn't think Rena would listen."
Muichiro gave a small nod, tapping her shoulder. "You reached her better than anyone else could. Now the question is—how do we make this work?"
Before Rika could answer, a familiar golden shimmer flickered through the hall. Rena had raised her hand, calling forth every S-Rank hero. Among them stood the twins, Sayo and Kiyo, their expressions unreadable in the dim torchlight.
Rena's calm voice broke the silence.
"I trust you all stand with my decision, made after careful thought."
The group nodded, some with relief, others with exhaustion. But the fragile peace shattered in an instant.
"I am not glad," said a hoarse voice from behind them.
Arthur stood in the doorway—bandages across his ribs, eyes dark with sleeplessness.
Rena's brows furrowed. "Arthur? You should be resting. Why oppose this?"
Arthur's tone trembled, but his anger was sharp. "You all made this decision without me. Sayo, you used Dreambind to keep me asleep, didn't you?"
The room stiffened. Sayo lowered her head. "I—I'm sorry. You were injured. We thought—"
"You thought wrong!" Arthur's voice cracked. "We lost three of our own. You call retreating honor? What would they think?"
Lancaster rose from his seat. "Arthur, calm yourself. This isn't cowardice—it's strategy."
But Arthur's trembling hands said otherwise. "Strategy? Or fear?"
Rika felt her chest tighten. The perfect image of Arthur—the strong, unshakable hero—was fading before their eyes. The guilt had hollowed him. She wanted to speak, to reach him, but her words froze.
Then, as Arthur's magic flared faintly around his fists, another voice cut through the tension.
"Are you certain of that decision?"
Muichiro stepped forward, his calm tone sharper than any blade.
Arthur turned. "Move, Muichiro."
"Sorry," Muichiro said quietly, "but I can't let you walk to your death."
The air thickened. The others dared not move.
Arthur lunged, his punch a blur of fury.
Muichiro's hand rose—a swift parry—and Arthur's momentum broke against it like a wave on stone.
A counterstrike. A twist. In seconds, Arthur was caught in a lock, breathless and stunned.
"Let me go!" Arthur gasped.
Muichiro's gaze didn't waver. "You're strong, Arthur. But right now… you're lost."
Arthur's resistance weakened, his eyes glassy. Muichiro caught him before he fell.
"I'll watch over him," Muichiro said, lifting Arthur's limp form with quiet respect. "Continue the mission."
As he disappeared down the corridor, Rika could only whisper, "He's stronger than I realized…"
Rena turned back to the others. "Enough hesitation. Everyone to the basement. Prepare the civilians for transfer."
She pressed her hand to the floor; light carved glowing sigils into the stone. "Once gathered, I'll open the portal myself."
The team scattered to obey. Yet before the spell could form, the walls trembled with distant roars.
A sickening wave of dark mana rippled through the air.
"Do not resist!" a voice boomed from beyond the shattered gates.
"Bow to us, or perish screaming."
Rika froze. That voice—smooth, venomous, and all too familiar.
Her heart dropped.
"Run!" she screamed. "It's Baruka!"
Explosions thundered through the mansion. The air filled with dust, screams, and the clash of magic.
Rika and the others rushed civilians toward the basement as Rena's spellwork ignited around them—glyphs spinning like golden stars. But not everyone had made it inside.
"A boy is missing!" shouted Shiro. "Dante! His parents said he ran toward the southern wall!"
Rika turned immediately. "I'll find him."
"Rika, wait—!" Kiyo shouted, but she was already gone.
Her boots pounded against the cracked marble floors. The world outside burned orange with firelight.
She called his name again and again—until she heard a small sob behind a broken shed.
"There you are…" Rika breathed, kneeling. "Come, Dante. We have to go."
The boy clutched a pitchfork, shaking. "Will I see my parents again?"
Rika smiled faintly and ruffled his hair. "Of course. But we need to hurry—"
The air shifted.
A shadow slid between them and the escape path.
"Well, what do we have here?" hissed a low voice.
Ekyno stepped from the darkness, eyes glinting crimson. "A hero and a frightened child. How quaint."
Rika planted her staff, summoning her magic. "Soul Prison!"
Chains of light erupted—but Ekyno merely snapped his fingers. "Cancel." The spell shattered like glass.
She pushed Dante behind her, heart racing. "Stay close."
"Am I going to see my mum and dad?" he whispered again.
"Yes," she said softly. "I promise."
Ekyno raised his blade, his smirk widening. "Empty promises. Shall I start with the child or the girl?"
Then—a flash of black steel.
CLANG!
A sword intercepted Ekyno's strike, sparks scattering through the night.
A man stood before her—black-haired, eyes cold as obsidian.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," he said, voice low and calm.
Rika's breath caught. "Yuta…?"
"Get the boy out of here," he said, never taking his eyes off the enemy.
Rika grabbed Dante's hand and turned to run. "Luna—erase their memory of this!"
A faint nod from the shadows.
As the world blurred into darkness, Rika's last whisper trembled through the void.
"Is that really you, Yuta…?"
He gave the smallest of smiles. "So long, rep."
The scene dissolved into silence.
And beyond the burning walls of Longunard, the night itself seemed to hold its breath.